The Emperor Across the Sea
by aPassingShadow
Summary: I can’t do it, I haven't the strength. Edmund, and Lucy, they were always so strong, so faithful." Aslan looked pained. "You will need more than faith in the end, Susan."
1. Chapter One: Dead, but Not at Peace

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. Surprise!

Thanks: Lots of hugs and cookies to my Beta Esther-Channah who is working hard to make this a story and not one big long epic poem (I over adjective, so sue me! Lols).

Notes: Not sure what to say that won't give things away. I guess the simplest way to put it is that I always hated the way the books treated Susan so I wrote her her own story. Its going to long, complex and full of surprises and hopefully different from every other Susan story you have ever read while still giving you that Chronicles of Narnia feeling. Reviews would be super appreciated. Thanks, and please, enjoy.

Chapter One: Dead, but Not at Peace.

Lucy lay to her right, blood pooling beneath the fringe of her short light hair, unquestionably dead. And there, she thought, though she could not be entirely sure, was Peter's black, silver-buckled boot protruding from a great pile of burning rubble. From her vantage, half-buried beneath hulking scraps of metal and concrete, Susan could not detect any sign of Edmund in the surrounding destruction that moments before had been a passenger train. There were many other people of course, and there were cries of pain and shouts of fear in the increasing darkness as stars began to appear in the night sky over the wreckage. Susan, for her part, felt nothing, nothing but a deep begging weariness. She was convinced that her spine must be broken. She could move her head, albeit with great effort, and nothing else. She shifted her gaze downward and saw a great splinter of wood protruding from her abdomen. Her right arm was buried, her left bent oddly. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed several times. She was dying, that was quite obvious to her, and now that she realized it, she could actually feel her will and life draining from her. Fear bubbled and then dissipated.

Memories of a land, a green land of wonder and magic, flooded over her.

Blinking at the stars, she remembered how clear and vibrant those of the other realm had been.

_Narnia. _

It was a prayer on the wind, rustling over the dead and the dying in the middle of the blackening countryside.

It had been several long, long years since Susan had thought about Narnia. The others had clung and pinned, Susan had _lived. _A love of adventure, born from her time in that land, had taken her all across the world, to many different places and cultures. While Peter mourned his long-lost Kingship, Susan had danced naked and free in the African deserts with a beautiful man whose skin matched the blackness of a moonless sky. While Lucy married and dreamed and waited and judged, Susan studied in ancient temples, traveled through forgotten places, and discovered what she could of the life she had been given. She'd loved and rejoiced in the world and its people, while Edmund brooded and rebelled, sinking deeper and deeper into a place where none of them could reach him. Narnia had been taken from them, yes, and the loss had come hard, but rather than wait for a Lion to save her, Susan had moved on with her life, made her _own _way.

Susan felt her life draining quickly now, and she felt a wave of sadness that she could not have seen her mother one last time, been surrounded by family, however judgmental, just once more. As the stars brightened, Susan's vision waned. She drifted toward blackness. Her life had been very full, brimming with love and experience, her end had come earlier than she had imagined, but she found no real room, nor reason to complain. All was well in her heart, and in her soul. Susan had not forgotten Narnia, nor had she ever become anyone unworthy of dwelling there, she simply, and profoundly, no longer _needed_it.

She drifted toward the all-consuming peace of death, until a light began to grow inside her. The light became a feeling, and then a being. And as she blinked, he was there.

"Daughter of Eve."

Susan, disoriented, and naked, trembled where she stood. She fell to her knees, and landed on something soft but invisible.

"I did not think I would see you again."

Her voice sounded strange and unfamiliar to her ears. It seemed to spark and drift in the space between herself and the enormous, magnificent Lion.

"You might not have thought it, but you knew in your heart you knew. Else I would not be here."

Susan could hardly dispute him. This _was_ Aslan after all. There was a silence that could have lasted an eternity or only a few moments.

"My brothers... and sister?"

The Lion bowed his head slightly. His golden eyes were sad.

"They have moved on, I have given them to a land in which they will be forever happy, and at peace."

"They suffered when they could no longer return..."

The words hung in the strange brilliance, and Susan was shocked to see the great Lion look vaguely ashamed.

"My only excuse is that I had been otherwise occupied.... I did not mean to neglect you, nor your siblings."

Susan arose, feeling wobbly, as though she was a toddler, learning to walk for the first time.

"They are the ones that suffered. And though they scorned my attitude, I moved on in life. I grew up."

The Lion neared her, seeming to grow larger with every step, until he was a mountain before her eyes. And then, he was suddenly smaller, just two heads above her, and she could feel his hot sweet breath across her bare skin. Power radiated from him and pulsed through her in waves.

"I must admit... you were not the Pevensie child whom I'd thought to find, here at the end. I had believed Lucy, or perhaps Edmund, would be the strongest. But you Susan Pevensie, once a great Queen of Narnia, were the strongest of them all. And while your sister and brothers pass into a world of peace and happiness... I would ask for your help."

Resentment came first. What right did he have to ask her for anything? He had abandoned her! And he'd left her siblings to try to make their way in a world in which they no longer fit. He had taken more... more than she might have ever realized. She looked up into his great golden eyes, and she knew he could see her, see every single part of her. There was love and apology in those eyes. Her resentment burned brighter for a moment, like the sputter of a flame, and then the feeling was gone. Susan sighed deeply, resigned.

"If you ask it of me, Aslan, then I will do what I can." She bowed her head.

"The task will be hard, maybe impossible, but there is no one but you who can achieve it. I have asked much of you and your siblings in the past, but your missions then, despite their dangers they were the adventures and battles of children. In many ways Peter, Edmund, and Lucy, never truly grew. The task I would set you on will require all the perceptions and experiences of a woman grown and learned. Someone who was once strong enough to let go of a past and make her own future."

Susan nodded slowly as she floated in the great glowing nothingness. Her skin tingled pleasantly; it was hard to imagine pain and suffering in this peaceful place.

"But first," he continued, "I would like to do what I can to reward you for your efforts thus far. Two requests, and I will do what I can to grant them."

Two requests? Like... wishes? She, dead and waiting to be sent on a mission about which she knew nothing… to make two requests. She'd always assumed that her passing would mean peace and quiet, not crazy quests and choices.

"I never married."

The words spouted forth almost of their own accord; she couldn't even remember thinking them.

"Susan...." Aslan's voice was rough.

"You said anything."

"I said anything I _could_."

Susan swallowed, but she was determined. For all the growing up she had managed to do, there had always been an emptiness, a void that nothing, no matter where she went or she did, could fill.

"It is... all I want."

"Doing what I must with you now will be.... testing enough. To take two would be...."

Aslan broke off suddenly, and turned his head, as though he had heard something. Susan tried to follow his gaze, but all she could see was the warm soothing bright nothing. Aslan had been quiet long enough that Susan was considering breaking the silence herself, when he let out a deep rumbling sigh, which she could feel in the tips of her toes.

"It will not be as you would wish, perhaps. He will need to come into his own, and you will have to find him yourself. If you do not he will spend the rest of his life in The World searching for his heart and his purpose, but never finding it. So be wary, Daughter. Though I will grant you this desire, it is up to you to see it fulfilled."

Susan sighed. "Is nothing ever easy?"

Aslan smiled his great Lion smile.

"If life were easy, one could not appreciate it. And love is only found and made whole through trials and tribulations; only then can it be realized."

Susan shook her head, chuckling.

"Not even death can be easy. I was looking forward to some quiet time."

Aslan brushed her cheek with the side of his warm furry face.

"If you succeed my dearest daughter, all the glory of the heavens will be yours. The very stars will sing your name."

Susan wrapped her arms around his great neck and squeezed. "I would settle for peace... and happiness."

There was silence. Then, with sadness he whispered, "It would be yours already if were up to me. I would see you happy for eternity, Susan..."


	2. Chapter Two: Reborn

Disclaimer: I don't own Aslan or Susan or many of the concepts within the story. But Faren, Faren is all mine. Lols.

Thanks to all of my reviewers! You all are wonderful and I love hearing from you and you help me to keep writing! And thanks, of course, to my Beta.

Notes: I think there are a few things I should address. I don't know if I would classify this as AU, but nearly all of the story is going to take place in a world entirely of my own creation full of characters that I have created. But, everything is meant to correspond, Aslan and his mysterious Father, everything is meant to be connected with Narnia and many of the concepts within. So if your looking for a fic that takes place in Narnia and encompasses the same rules and verse than you may not enjoy this fic. This is Susan's story, the other Pevensie's will play only a minor part. But I urge you to give it a try.

**oooOOooo**

** Chapter Two: Reborn.**

**A**slan let her rest for a time. She slept after a fashion, drifting in the Great Nothing. While she rested, pondered and remembered, Aslan returned.

"I would give you more time, if I could, but we must hurry."

Susan surfaced from within through the depths of her mind. At first, she regretted leaving the peaceful emptiness, but then she remembered Aslan's promise and felt her body and heart tremble with anticipation.

"So I will be... born again, then?"

Aslan nodded. "I have decided it would be best if you were reborn into this world, rather than simply entering into it. The world is not like Narnia; it is a harder place, similar to your world in more ways than one."

Susan thought for another long moment. "How will I know then, of my mission? Shall I truly lose myself?"

Aslan shook his great mane slowly before he spoke.

"When you mature, your memories will return, and I will find you, though I may only visit that world briefly. You will always be yourself, however. That which makes you, _you_, can never be lost, no matter what form you take, Susan Pevensie."

She found some comfort in his words, but her ever-present fear of the unknown swelled. She thought longingly of her sisters and brothers.

"And what of... my _other _request?"

Aslan's chuckle sounded almost like a purr. His eyes shone with indulgent amusement, almost as though he was a parent with an unruly child.

"You have asked me for the two things that are the most difficult to grant. I have done what I can for the first. The second, I must consider... and speak more with my Father before granting."

Susan was disappointed. She was tempted, more tempted than she wanted to admit, to simply refuse him, if he could not assure her completely that she might have what she wanted. She realized how incredibly spoiled and horrid that was, but the feeling remained at the back of her mind.

The silence weighed heavily, and Susan began to feel smothered. It was as though the air was thickening around her. Panic rose before she could stop it. But Aslan was there, and she clung desperately to him. "I'm afraid..."

He nuzzled her.

"As am I dear one, but we must solider on."

Susan took a deep breath and tried to recover some of herself.

"Is there nothing more I might know?"

A pause. Then he moved away, and they looked at one another.

"This land that I must send you to, is the land of my Father, the first world in which he created. Its fate is linked with all others, and It, the Dark Master himself, is seeking its destruction. My Father does as he can, but I am the tool through which he must work, and I have recently been shown my limits. I can no longer travel freely in that world, and so, I chose you."

Susan was cold. So very very cold.

"I can't do it, I haven't the strength. Edmund, and Lucy, they were always so strong, so faithful."

Aslan looked pained.

"You will need more than faith in the end, Susan."

It was not fear that was making her cold, at least not entirely. The warmth and light were fading. The lines of Aslan's great golden body were blurring. Susan trembled and clung, but the softness of the Lion's coat was faint and her own being was fast becoming intangible.

"What if I fail?!" she cried desperately into the monstrous darkness. She could no longer see him. Only the power of his presence remained, and it was fading fast.

"Then all is lost... If It wins, if The World is consumed, then every being on every world is lost."

The words that might have driven her mad with fear quickly faded as she slipped away into… nothingness.

**oooOOooo**

**W**hen his mother found out, she would kill him. Well, she'd probably take a stick to his backside first, but after that, he would definitely be dead. She'd told him a thousand billion trillion times not the play next to the water converters. She'd said they were dangerous and old, but they were just so _cool _looking. And they did such amazing things when one tossed rocks or branches into them. Irisel didn't think so of course, but then, she was always such a goody goody, bossing everyone around, just because she was older. Older and uglier, Faren thought.

"You're in huge trouble, you know."

He wanted to hit and scream at her, then cry and beg her to save him from Mum.

"Shut up," he growled.

"You realize that everyone in the whole neighborhood is going to be mad, right? And you're going to have clean all the landing pads and the message bots again, just like la...."

"Shut up already, I said!"

Brugo, who had been forging ahead, looked back with a glare. Faren returned it with a fierce look of his own. The old man was not intimidated by the six-year-old upstart.

"Don't go yelling at your sister. She's right; you'll be lucky if your mum doesn't feed you to the desert rats after she hears. A whole _row _of water converters out. That's gonna take a month, or more, to fix."

Faren felt his face flush. He couldn't believe he'd been so dumb! Everyone was going to have to go to Den's Turn to get their water until the converters could be fixed. That was a good four-mile walk. What if they asked for money? Since dad had... died, last year, they'd been just scraping by. Fear, hot and sharp in the dry heat of the summer evening, boiled in his blood. He glanced at Irisel, who was chewing on her lower lip. There was a great smudge of brown dirt on her left cheek. She looked like she was going to cry. If she started blubbering, he was really going to hit her.

The trio rounded the corner, and Faren's squat brick house came into view. The boy's heart really started to pound. Out front, a great, tan Dune Cat was loitering in their rock lawn. On its back was a black, shiny leather saddle. The town Keepers had already heard? Irisel covered his hand with hers, and he couldn't bring himself to shake her off. He was too afraid. He squeezed her fingers and he felt her tremble. She was probably remembering that night, the last time a Keeper's Dune Cat had been outside their home. The night their father had died.

Brugo halted halfway up the street, seeing the cat belatedly. He looked nervous, and more than a little displeased as he glanced back at the two trembling children. The Faren kid was a menace, but he'd just lost his father a year ago. A little rebellion was understandable. He hadhoped the law wouldn't have to become involved. Someone must have seen the brat bust the converters and called them in. Suddenly not wanting to be involved anymore—after all Mordia really was a sweet woman—Brugo ushered the children on ahead of him.

"Tell your mom to give me a yell, Faren, if she needs to..." The boy didn't turn back, but his shoulders tensed for a moment. Then he and his older sister trudged on. The Dune Cat watched them imperiously as they drew near, and Brugo felt uneasy. The hot desert breeze did nothing to stop the shiver of apprehension that crawled down his spine and settled in his belly.

Feeling uneasy the old man turned toward home, trying to suppress the crawling feeling of dread.

Faren heard his mother's raised voice as he and Irisel crossed the gravel path to their house. She was really, _really _mad. He swallowed hard. He couldn't believe someone had called the Keepers on him. This was so very very bad. They reached the front door, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. After a long moment, Irisel reached out, turned the knob and led him slowly inside. Her hand squeezed his reassuringly. He hated how much better he felt, having her with him.

"You can't! You've no right at all!"

Mordia Durtest looked mortified. Her bloodless face was wet with tears.

Shocked, Faren rushed toward his mother. "I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to… I'm so sorry, Mum!" The Keeper, towering over his mother in his black and gold uniform, spoke in a booming voice that easily drowned out the boy's frantic babble.

"I've orders _directly _from the capital, ma'am. I'm sorry. Your daughter is one of those selected for the Examination."

Puzzled, Faren stopped midway through the room. Irisel rushed to his side. They looked at each other, befuddled. Their mother noticed them first and she snatched Irisel and shoved her protectively behind her back. She hardly spared Faren a glance.

"This is insane. I've never heard such a thing in all my life! You can't take her!"

The man approached Faren's cowering mother, with a hand upraised, and the young boy, hardly realizing what he was doing, rushed to tackle the interloper. His arms wrapped tightly about the big man's knees, causing him to lose his balance and crash heavily into the nearby wall. The man cursed loudly and stumbled, as Faren beat at his legs in a fury.

"You leave my Mum alone! Don't! You! Touch! Her!" He punctuated each word with another punch or kick.

The officer's hairless, pockmarked face turned purple with anger. He shoved Faren violently away. The boy flew backward across the room and crashed into the little table beside his mother's favorite chair. Darkness clouded his vision and pain bloomed behind his eyes. His mother was crying loudly, but she did not come to him. Instead, she and Irisel clung to one another as the furious Keeper approached.

"Either you hand over the girl, or I arrest the boy for attacking a public officer, and _then_ I take the girl."

Faren suddenly understood what the Keeper was really asking. He wanted to take Irisel away! Surely destroying a few water converters couldn't warrant such a terrible punishment. Faren tried to stand, meaning to tackle the terrible man again, but every movement was agonizing. His head was spinning and he felt like he might be sick. He focused on his mother's face as he slumped to the ground in defeat. Tears of anger and frustration sliddown his cheeks. His mother glanced from one child to the other looking as though she might be dying inside, before she finally focused on Irisel. She clutched the girl's shoulders and looked her in the eye. Irisel, for her part, didn't cry, she just looked stunned, and more than a little frightened.

"Sweetheart, you're g-going on a little trip. Th-this man wants to take you to the big city and give you fine things and put you in a r-really good school."

Irisel started shaking her head violently in protest, but her mother continued on, her voice becoming stern and commanding.

"It's only for a little while Irisel. You must be a good girl; do as you're told and then, you can come home."

His mother had never lied before, she had never made promises that she didn't keep, but this... this sounded a great deal like a lie. Faren moaned his protest. Irisel looked at him, tears starting to well up in her wide green eyes, and then looked at the glaringly impatient Keeper who stood like an ominous stormcloud over the two of them. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft, that Faren nearly didn't hear her.

"They'll take Faren to jail, won't they? If I don't go...."

His mother looked at him, and shame, so strong it nearly made him ill, enveloped Faren. This was all his fault. He began stammering apologies, crying hard now.

"Y-yes, sweetheart, but don't worry. That's not where you're going... They just want to get to know you a little and then, you can come home..."

Irisel gave her brother one last long look. And then, she nodded slightly and stepped around their sobbing mother. The officer scooped her up roughly, and headed immediately toward the door.

Unbelieving, Faren launched himself after them. Something hot and sticky was running into his eyes from a cut on his head, but he wiped it away without a second thought. "No! I'm s-sorry! Take me, not her! Please!"

He raced for the door. The Keeper didn't even glance back, as he slammed it shut behind him. He heard Irisel cry his name, a terrified plea. He wrenched the door open, and tried to launch himself after her, but his mother grabbed him hard from behind, keeping him just inside the door. Struggling with all his might, he screamed his sister's name and she cried back to him as the Keeper swung up onto his terrifying mount. The Keeper sat his sister before him, and raced away from the house, out into the deep desert darkness.

**oooOOooo**

**I**t was several numb weeks later before Faren realized the pattern. The night his sister had been taken had been a night of panic for many. Seven girls from their small township alone had been taken in the night. Fear hung like dark heavy curtain over the everything It had been many years since anyone had been called away for an Examination from anywhere in the Southern Desert. Grief and guilt had clouded all Faren's thoughts until one morning, after listening to his mother and a neighbor lady talking quietly in the next room, it clicked.

"Midwinter, you say?" His mother's voice was so soft, Faren had to strain to hear it from the little kitchen.

"Yes... she would have been eight next week, Midwinter day."

He didn't hear his mother's reply. _Irisel's birthday had been Midwinter day_...

Faren exploded away from the table and stormed into the room. The wilting woman sitting next to his mother looked at him as though he were a crazed animal.

"Mother! Don't you see?"

She shocked him by looking angry.

"Quiet down, Faren. And go back to your studies."

"Bu... But, Mom! Irisel, _her_ birthday..."

She cut him off sharply, her gaze telling him all he needed to know. "I said, 'quiet', Faren! Your studies… Now, or there will be no supper."

Faren felt crushed. He turned and ran blindly to his room, where he sat and stared at his hands for an immeasurable amount of time. His mother never called him for dinner, and Faren didn't care; he sobbed quietly into his pillow until sleep claimed him. In his dreams he saw a girl, who was not his sister. This one was older, with dark reddish brown hair. She smiled at him. When she turned, laughing, there was a strange red marking between her shoulder blade and neck. It looked like a paw print.

For the next week, Faren and his mother didn't speak. He tried several more times to broach the subject of Irisel's birthday, and each time she turned him angrily away. Faren went back to school, but he didn't go with the other boys to sled down the sand dunes, or play catch with rubber balls anymore. All seemed lost now, without his sister. And it was all his fault. He ate little, and his mother didn't seem to care or notice. She probably wished they had taken him instead, he'd always been nothing but a nuisance. She was gone a lot during the day. He didn't know where and he was too afraid to ask, worried that she would only be angry for reminding him of his existence. He did his schoolwork, and his chores, then lay in bed crying quietly for his sister, and trying to decide how to save her.

The night of the Midwinter feast, he slept. He was dreaming again of the dark haired girl, when he found himself being shaken awake.

"Faren," his mother whispered harshly in the hot darkness of his room, "I need your help. Get dressed and come with me."

Drifting in that place between dreams and reality, Faren arose slowly. His mother made an impatient noise, stripped off his sleeping shorts, and went to find him more suitable clothing. Naked and very confused, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Where are we go--"

"Hush, and put these on."

She handed him a pair of trousers and a shirt that was too small. Awake now, and rather afraid, he did as she asked.

"Shoes, shoes… Where are your shoes?" His mother sounded panicky.

Faren found his shoes under his bed. Moments later, he and his mother were zooming out of the house and outside. And then they were off, headed away from town, and out toward the desert. Behind the last house, his mother scooped up a large knapsack hidden within a thick desert bush. Very frightened now, Faren opened his mouth to speak, but his mother whipped around and put a finger to her lips, eyes wide in the darkness.. He swallowed and clung to her hand, picking up his feet as they raced away into the darkness. Before he could really start to come up with any ideas as to _why_ they were skipping off into the deep desert, they'd stumbled up a particularly high sand dune to reveal a little oasis nestled down below. Faren gasped for breath, but was too weary to be surprised. He'd never heard of an oasis this close to town. They hurried quickly down, scrambling to stay upright as the sand slid out from beneath their feet. As they neared, he heard faint cries of pain, and caught glimpses of a little wooden shack in the moonlight.

His mother turned to him once they were beneath the tall desert trees, her face distant and strange to him.

"You must be brave, Faren. Promise me."

He trembled, suddenly afraid of her. "I-I promise Mum..."

She nodded once and her eyes softened just a she pulled him onward.

The cries grew louder as they neared the dilapidated shack. Faren resisted the urge to run. What in the heavens could be going on inside? He wasn't sure he really wanted to find out. His mother's fast strides didn't slow down any as they neared, and she wrenched the door open quickly and fell to her knees next to a dirty woman who was using a blanket to muffle her screams of agony.

"Wh-What's _wrong _with her?" Faren asked in horror.

The woman's pain-blurred eyes shifted to him when he spoke, and he flushed in embarrassment. His mother looked up at him exasperated.

"Nothing is _wrong _with her; she's having a baby. Now stop gawking and get a fire going."

The strange woman started to protest.

"N-No, they'll find us! They'll-"

His mother soothed her into silence.

"We'll have to risk it." Her voice turned practical. "Everything will need to be sterile for the birthing. If not, you _and _your child could die."

She turned, glaring, to Faren, who was still staring in confused horror.

"Faren! A fire, now! Hurry!"

He snapped to life and began to gather the necessary wood. He tried to lose himself in the task, but it was difficult with the anguished cries breaking through his thoughts. The fire was easy—his father had shown him a little trick—and then, his mother set him to heating up water from a small pool at the center of the ring of trees. Soon, however, he was left without anything to do. He sat as far away from the shack as he could while remaining within hearing distance, should his mother call. Hours passed as the moon rose higher, and then began to sink. Faren was starting to nod off, more tired than he could ever remember being, when his mother summoned him. It was quieter, he realized. The screams had become soft whimpers. Were babies always so difficult?

The woman lay weak and nearly lifeless. Blood had soaked into the thick blankets beneath her, and her face was utterly pale. _She's dying!_ He thought in horror. His mother, who was kneeling between the woman's open legs, grabbed him with one bloody hand and dragged him down next to her.

"Faren, you have to help. I need to push down on her stomach, the baby is stuck. Now, I need you to pull gently, very gently on the baby's feet while I do."

Faren thought he might vomit. His mother shook him.

"Faren! If you don't do this, the baby will die!"

He nodded. He didn't really agree with what she was saying, but he found himself unable to protest. His mother moved away and he took her place, staring blankly in terror at the two tiny feet poking between the woman's legs. So many things he'd never understood now stood revealed in the most grotesque and horrifying way. Mother situated her hands above the woman's swollen abdomen, feeling around for a moment then settling them, one atop the other. She looked at him with fierce determination in her eyes.

"Alright, on the count of three, when I say 'go', pull on both feet while I push. When the waist and back come, pull carefully at the hips. If we can get it that far, then I can handle the rest."

Faren said nothing but she didn't seem to notice.

"One...two... three... Go!"

He hesitated for the barest of moments, then grabbed the strange slippery limbs and pulled gently, but firmly. Nothing happened. He pulled a bit harder, and the baby began to move. The woman moaned, and her back arched in pain. Faren looked up wildly in fear, but his mother only said, "Keep pulling!"

And so he pulled, the hips came free. He wrapped his shaking hands around them and pulled more. The baby moved down small inch by small inch, and then, someone suddenly him shoved aside. A long moment later his mother gave one hard pull, the woman screamed loudly, and it was over. But the baby was still, and faintly blue. Turning the tiny, slightly conical head, his mother cleared the mouth and throat, then covered the bloody mucus-splotched face with her mouth and began to breath into it. Was it going to die? Faren's bloody hands hung limp at his sides. He was crying, but he hardly noticed.

Finally, there was a faint sputter, and then a violent, very angry baby cry. His mother sagged visibly, then wrapped the wriggling thing in a fresh blanket. She used another to clear the tiny wrinkled face. Faren decided then and there that he would never _ever_ get married and have children. It was the most disturbing, disgusting thing he had ever seen. His mother had the frame of mind to use the last blanket to cover the woman's bloody lower half, before kneeing at her head.

"You've done it, Dylanna! Look! A girl, and she is healthy and fine."

The woman's head twitched. Her eyes opened ever so slightly, and a weak hand rose to touch the newborn's face. She smiled.

"Halianna...." she whispered. Then her hand dropped, her breathing hitched… and stopped.

Faren could only swallow and turn away.

His mother, after whispering a prayer and making the Circle on the woman's still chest, pulled him outside to wash. After he'd cleaned his arms and hands thoroughly she handed him the wide-eyed baby and walked, fully clothed, into the pool to wash.

Faren and the blue-eyed infant stared at one another for a long time. She seemed to be studying him, one little hand curled up by her face.

"Halianna..." he whispered. It sounded wrong—he couldn't think why—as though she were meant to have a different name.

Pushing away the silly thought, he cleaned the tiny shoulder of the white gunk. That was when he spotted something odd. It was red and, worried that she might be bleeding, he turned her gently over and pulled aside the blanket. There, situated between her shoulder blade and her neck, was a red birth mark in the shape of a paw print.


End file.
